


Play by Play

by ChickadeeChick



Series: Felicidades [3]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickadeeChick/pseuds/ChickadeeChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feli and Nando's thoughts during their third round match at the 2009 Sony Ericsson Open (aka the Miami Masters).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play by Play

**Author's Note:**

> A totally new style for me here... I wrote this while watching these two play and decided to make up my own internal dialog. Refers momentarily to "Felicidades," so I suppose it is part of that "universe," but it can easily be read on its own. 
> 
> +++++++++++ indicates a POV change.

While bouncing the ball just before serving Fernando looked up and had to bite his lip to contain a smile. Feliciano hiked up his shorts a bit more as he crouched and while Nando knew that flash of thigh wasn’t intentional, it certainly caught his attention.

Then suddenly he was a break down. It was only the first set! Dammit, playing Feli was harder than he thought it would be. The older Spaniard was just too much fun to watch; Nando would much rather be sitting in Feli’s box right now. Long, tan arms and legs, running, serving, volleying, and fuck that went right into the net.

+++++++++++

Feli really wanted to punch those loud asses yelling from the stands. Almost as much as he wanted slide his hand into Nando’s as they switched sides. This was shaping up to be a harder night than Feli planned. He was ready to lose – with the way Nando had been playing recently? The Australian Open? Hell, Nando had almost knocked Rafa’s socks off, and that took some doing. But now Feli was a break up and how the hell had that happened? 

His hands were sweating something horrid in the humid night air and all Feli could think was that he would rather have his hand sliding around another long cylindrical object right now, instead of this torture. 

But what in the hell was Nando doing? Another double fault? Feli was almost worried something was seriously wrong.

+++++++++++

Fernando had once driven a friend’s rust-box of a car that had a gearbox that stuck and a clutch that he was pretty sure was dipped in superglue. That was just about how this felt. Nando knew the rest of his game was in there somewhere… just every time he tried to press forward, go faster, he couldn’t hit it right, there was some strange resistance, like the air was water.

And then Feli’s serve started to fail him. A few second serves and then Nando had a boatload of break chances. And Feli upped his game, pushing harder, forcing the error from Nando. And when Nando went to push right back it just… stuck. He might as well be playing in mud.

It certainly wasn’t helping that somewhere in the back of his brain every grunt from Feli sounded horribly, wonderfully, familiar. Short points, hope for short points, and then there it is, that is the forehand Nando was looking for. 

+++++++++++

Playing doubles together so often was a blessing as much as it was a curse, Feli thought. Doubles play meant that you weren’t afraid to come into the net, weren’t afraid to volley close up, weren’t afraid to go for the shot that needed that sweet touch. It also meant that both of you were good with such gameplay.

He snuck a look at Nando during the changeover and their eyes met; it was only a millisecond, but Feli felt as if the water in his stomach had turned into ice. Fernando really wanted to win, Feli could feel it just like they were sitting next to one another, even from across the court. However, Feliciano wanted to win too, and fuck if he wasn’t going to hold serve this one game and get himself a set. 

Feliciano had initially pumped himself up for the match telling himself that it would just be like old times. They had played matches before, this wouldn’t be any different.

But it was, it so was. Because nothing had changed. And everything. All after that Davis Cup win. For a moment some traitorous beast in his head wished it hadn’t happened – and the rest of Feli’s brain promptly beat that part into silent oblivion.

+++++++++++

Where the hell had that first set gone? And why did Nando feel like he was playing himself as much as he was playing Feli?

A new set meant a new start. He could still win this. And as much as he could imagine Feli’s eyes lighting up with the win, he could imagine the make-up sex more.

Because there was nothing more the younger Spaniard enjoyed more than being the dominant one in their relationship. And oh, Feli was going to pay for that cute little short ball and really, there is nothing like an over-powered overhead smash winner.

Nando was pretty sure he hadn’t felt so much relief at a break ever. Well, maybe not ever, but that break felt better than it should have, especially with how close to the net they were, dancing across from one another.

Too close, too close. The whole thing was just too close. Had they gotten too close?

Nando wanted to hit himself in the face with his racquet at such a thought. He knew that playing each other was a bad idea.

+++++++++++

If those twats in the stands didn’t stop chanting his name, Feli was going to climb over the walls Rafa-style and shove the grip of his racquet through one of their eye sockets.

And no, that anger wasn’t because he was down 0-3 in the second set. Not at all.

Because this was the Nando he had come to know and love over the past few months. Fernando had never told Feli what advice Andre Agassi had given to him (despite everything and anything Feli had done to pry the information out of him), but this was the Nando it had produced, this animal that made Feli burn so hot he thought he might actually catch other people on fire if he touched them. And for that he probably should send Agassi flowers.

And it wasn’t like Feli enjoyed loosing, far from it, especially now that the previous set had given him a glimmer of hope that he had a chance. It always stung to lose, even to Nando.

And maybe it would have been nice to have shown Nando that he could still play with the big boys, even though his ranking had dropped while Nando’s had risen. 

It would be nice to show Nando that he wasn’t about to be left behind. 

Not without a fight.

+++++++++++

If they had been practicing Fernando would have taken an overenthusiastic bow after that lob that just dropped in over Feli’s head, but this was a real match, no room for their usual playful games. Even if Feli himself had applauded the shot.

There was little doubt now that the match was going into a third deciding set. They would both continue to hold serve, maybe not easily, but it would all come down to one set. 

Dammit this night was turning out to be harder than it was supposed to be, mentally and physically. Nando tested the tennis balls in his hands, threw one back, one in the pocket, and the last up to serve.

+++++++++++

As Nando walked behind his bench Feliciano couldn’t help but watching him walk away, back to his own side. That ass was too sexy. 

But Feli couldn’t be thinking those things now. He had to hold, and then the third set. Either of them could still win it, especially if the net kept knocking balls in Feli’s favor like that.

But where the hell had his first serve gone? The third set wasn’t going to go his way if his serve wasn’t with him. Maybe it was still back at the bench, watching Nando’s ass.

Then again, if Nando kept having problems with his forehand like that Feli might just be able to win this thing. At least as long as the crowds didn’t stampede out of the stands and maul the chair umpire. Even if it did help him hold, Feli knew that call was dubious at best.

+++++++++++

Serving for the set. Just hold. Hold your serve. Almost to the third set. Aw fuck.

Okay, tactics, pass it up the line and thank you! Much better. Nando couldn’t help the fist pump as he clinched the set, but it didn’t really make him smile. Nothing about this match really conformed to his idea of fun.

And Feli seemed to be falling apart to open the new set, even though it should be a clean slate, even though it should be where he comes out firing rockets. Nando almost wanted to stop the game and give Feli a hug. Almost.

But better to get this over quickly, end this last set fast and then they could get on with their lives. Pretend that they will never have to play one another again.

And what the fuck was the crowd doing? Were they… booing him?

+++++++++++

Feli was four inches from breaking his racquet on the head of the next idiot who booed at Nando during his serve. Fucking drunk whatevers and their inability to be civil. 

But Nando ignored it and moved on. Better than Feli could do; he was still ruffled the wrong way by the time he threw the ball up to serve. And it didn’t help his confidence any.

And dammit that forehand didn’t work either. And now they were at deuce. Feli was starting to get frustrated, because at this point he was pulling shots out of his ass and Nando was shooting them back like he was some green junior. At least an ace helped him out, at least his serve had found its way back from checking out Nando’s ass. 

Holy shit they were back on serve. Nando had just given him a gift break and Feli wasn’t really sure what to do with it. It wasn’t supposed to work that way. What was Nando doing?

Although it wasn’t going to help much if Feli gave that break right back. Feli had gotten the whole sharing thing from kindergarten, but he didn’t think that it really applied here. 

+++++++++++

They were running like madmen now, hitting shots at angles that shouldn’t be hit from. But Nando still knew that he wasn’t playing his best, that he had another gear that he couldn’t find. 

Honestly, seriously, he knew that, right now, he was a better player than Feli. It was just a fact. But that didn’t mean he was better when they played each other.

One break was all he knew that he needed. Hold his serve, which Nando was confident that he could do, and then just one break. They could call it a night and this frustration would be over.

But Feli wasn’t going to give him a break. Feli had found his motivation again and wasn’t about to roll over and give Nando the match, even if it would be easier on both of them. Then again, Nando should have expected that – Feli never took the easy way out. Nando knew he was going to have to work hard for it. And, really, he liked it that way.

+++++++++++

Feli knew he had a chance now. He was feeling good again about his playing, not like a few games ago. But he wasn’t really feeling happy about that development. Not that his season couldn’t use the win over Nando and not that he didn’t want to win another match and make it into the next round.

But hell he didn’t want to hurt Nando. And Feli knew that Nando could take it in stride, that it wouldn’t change anything between them. But they hadn’t played a match against one another in over a year and so much had changed between them since then. Just since the start of this new year. 

Not that letting Nando win wouldn’t hurt him too. If Fernando thought that Feli gave anything under 110% in the match he would be insulted. And that would be another kettle of fish Feli did not want to deal with.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

But suddenly Nando found himself. In the middle of the ninth game of the third set, his touch became golden. And Feli could almost feel the break coming and then a double fault. Three break points. Hopefully Nando wouldn’t hold being this nervous and frustrated against him.

One saved with a comfortable forehand.

Next saved with a big serve.

Almost there. Almost to deuce…

And another goddamned double fault. The nerves and the fatigue made Feli angry at his own body. Because now Nando was serving for the match. And how was he going to deny Nando that?

+++++++++++

Almost there. Just hold serve and Fernando was in the round of 16. And right into the net. Christ.

But that backhand down the line gets him out of the hole and Nando can feel himself fighting his nerves when Lady Luck of the Net Tape gives him one more smile.

Fight. Fight. Fight. Back and forth. Back and forth. Up and down. Up and down.

Nando wasn’t this tired in his last set against Rafa at the Australian Open. He’s worried that his mental state will give out before his physical fitness. But then Feli hits it into the net and it is over.

Nando is more relieved than anything. 

He can’t help but apologize to Feli at the net, can’t help but keep one hand on Feli’s back as long as he can, before Feli heads back to his bags. Because Feli played so well. So so well. He was so close to winning at some points that Nando was actually scared. Shocked. Surprised. And absolutely elated. Because he knew that Feli could do better than he had in the past few months. And Feli deserved that confidence.

And Nando could think of one more thing that just might boost Feli’s confidence. 

Hitting the autographed balls into the stands, Nando rushed to throw his bag over his shoulder and head into the locker rooms, following Feli’s footsteps.


End file.
